


A tale of an old oak tree

by Vendikko



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Bard Jimin, But for like one sentence, Fate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sorcerer Seokjin, hobi is there too, i dont know if i made it so violent to tag it as grpahic ;_; i think not, so i didnt know if i should tag him, witcher namjoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vendikko/pseuds/Vendikko
Summary: In a violent spiral of events witcher Namjoon comes across an unusual oponnent.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Kudos: 1





	A tale of an old oak tree

_Fog thickened more and more with each passing second, starting to look dense. The man held his sword in a steel grip. His heart rushing blood in fast peace, he could hear it clearly in deafening silence that enveloped the meadow. On it, one enormous old oak stood in the middle, visibly damaged by time. Big leaves casting shadow on the man's posture. Sweat soaking in his white linen chemise as he swung his hoe at the roots that slowly creeped around his feet._

  
_— Get away from me! — he screamed as loud as he could, throwing heavy smacks at the roots, but they just kept going, despite being damaged, still strong enough to pull the man on the ground._   
_Suddenly, the tree creaked loudly. Long nicked branches rustled violently._

  
_— Swing your little stick as hard as you want, for thy life ends here! — deep, slightly muffled voice screeched with a tint of mockery in its tone._   
_One of the branches extended, grabbed the man's neck and started to pull at his head. The man trashed and screamed in agony, sending prayers to all the gods he could remember. His eyes bulged out, mouth wide open in hopeless attempts of getting air into his lungs and..._

_CRACK!_

_The spine finally gave in with a loud pop that could be heard throughout the meadow. The man's terrified expression faded, his grip loosened and the body limped, supported only by the branches and roots._

◆◆◆◆

_The most famous tale-teller,_   
_Will sing you a song about an oyster seller,_   
_At the vast port of the Novigrad town,_   
_There was a beauty with hair caramel brown,_   
_Her supple meat and pinky pearl,_   
_Would lure a boy and even a gi-_

— Would you please be quiet for a moment? — annoyed tone from the other side of the table scared the bard that missed a note on his lute and stopped the frivolous song.

  
— Oh please, Joon. You want to rob these beautiful ladies from the chance of tasting higher culture? It's not everyday that you meet a famous artist like me. — the bard snorted annoyingly. Despite that rude interruption he still winked and waved his red velvet beret with three long peacock feathers at the blushing and giggling girls that sat on an opposite side of the tavern.

  
— There is nothing graceful in your perverted songs, Jimin.

  
— You just don't understand it. Predictable, since I am the one with the title of seven liberal arts. And you... You just brew your potions and slice monsters all your life. — the bard waved his hand contemptuously at the man and pouted his plumpy lips.

  
Namjoon sighed, took a long sip of mahakaman mead from his clay cup and sank deep in his thoughts. To think that half elven child would make such a big career in the human world. Elves or mixed ones rarely have a chance to get to the prestigious university of Oxenfurt. Strong will and persistence earned him diploma summa cum laude. Natural charm was a major help too; doll like inherited after his mother and an elven dad who gifted him silky platinum blonde hair and a pair icy blue eyes that would win many hearts during his college years.  
Namjoon could only wish he had all the chances in life. Alas, he was born to become yet another hated bastard and abomination — the witcher.

  
Life was not easy for folks like him, especially closer to more civilized places where people usually had no business with him and his craft. They preferred mages to deal with their petty problems. After all, what can witcher do for the person that seeks medicine for impotence. That's why Novigrad would only be destination for annual winter shopping spree for his beloved horse and himself. After months on the road, he had managed to hoard quite a lot of coin; enough to afford a new fitted leather jacket with sewn rabbit fur in the collar and on the inside, a new saddle and a brand new steel sword crafted by the best local blacksmith. Namjoon couldn’t be more satisfied that day. Drinking with his old pal and with new stuff right next to him.

  
Seemingly indestructible, cozy bubble of happiness suddenly disappeared, when a pair of unwashed men came up to their table. One of them leaned to the bard and belched his hot, fish infused breath right in Jimin’s face.

  
— Oi, ya fuckin’ mutt. Dare to hit on my Klara again?

  
— But this is a mere misunderstanding. I was just sharing my art with the people — Jimin, startled by the man, stammered his flood of excuses, effectively enraging his opponent even more.

  
— You better shut your mouth, little mongrel. Who did your mother fuck to give you such pointy ears? Little squirrels from the forest had their way with her, ain’t that right? Maybe I should trim them a little, so you will look less disgusting.

  
The man grabbed the bard by his satin chemise, pulled out a small pocket knife and moved it closer to Jimin’s ears. Sharp blade kept creeping closer to the bard’s delicate shell, when asudden ping and hit of a wooden spoon flying across the table, knocked the knife out of aggressor’s hand. Everyone turned their gazes at the sniper’s direction. It was the witcher.

  
— Leave the bard alone and I won’t have to punch your leprous face.

  
— Ha! Did you hear that, Mielko? The other mutant has a tongue too. Normal ears, but eyes of a cat. Maybe we can change that. — the man said as he reached for the spoon and aimed it at the witcher eyes. Namjoon swiftly grabbed the man’s hands and pushed it towards his eyes. The hand of the wooden spoon penetrated right through the eye socket. Piercing scream caught everyone’s attention as the man lowered himself down slowly, trying to grab the witcher’s clothes with his remaining strength, but that only stained Namjoon’s new jacket with blood gushing out of the man’s eye. He looked at the twitching corpse on the floor. He could feel people’s shocked gazes piercing him from every direction. The witcher stood still with his head tucked down. Quiet seconds before the storm were the longest he had ever lived through.

— Guards! Someone call for the guards! — one of the women screeched in an ungodly high pitch. The othe either fainted or had already fleed the scene.

From the crowd gathering around the corpse and Namjoon emerged Jimin. Holding onto his beret and lute, he tried to reconcile thirsty for the witcher’s blood mob.

— There no reason to panic! Lad over here is just, well, sleeping?— the bard said, obviously knowing that the man on the floor is already cooling down. — We shall all forget about that unfortunate event and drink one for the union! Eh, Namjoon?

Jimin’s efforts only taunted the rabid mob further.

The witcher seemed to be more interested in a wooden plank of the floor that was slowly turning crimson red.

◆◆◆◆

Namjoon had been drifting on a narrow line between dream and reality for hours. Delicate sunshine rays danced around his closed eyelids, moving to and fro. He could hear a faint squeak of heavy doors and delicate taps of bare feet on a marble floor. The fresh aroma of sea salt, sage and seaweed hit his nostrils. Someone had slipped under sheets and laid on top of him. Cold and damp skin cooled his heated one. Bony hands began to slide from chest to waist, hips and scratched his pubic bone and waltzed around hair, twisting it in a playful manner. The witcher, startled by the excited whirl in his groin, tried to open his eyes and see who the mysterious figure might be, but it only covered his eyes and whispered in his ear.

— Shh, don’t open them — the youthful voice soothed Namjoon’s senses and relaxed him yet again.

He could feel breathy giggles tickling his ear, silky strands of hair dancing around his cheek. The hand again trailed down delicately embraced the whitcher’s shaft, started to pump it slowly. Namjoon let out a shaky sigh, letting all the stress wash out of his body. He could feel coming closer to his sweet release with each passing second

_-ke up!_

— That’s right, let it all out for me — the voice kept huffing and moaning sweetly in the witcher’s ear, making him go crazy.

_-ke up!_

—- Come on, yes!

_Wake up!_

Namjoon opened his eyes to see an awful wrinkly face of a guard. He looked at Namjoon with a grimaced face. So, it was a dream after all. He looked around and remembered everything - the tavern, the dead man and him being escorted to town’s prison along with Jimin. The cell was a complete opposite of his pleasant dream. Dark, moist and stuffy enclosure made him go back to his grim reality rather quickly.

— Finally! Now get your arse up. You’ll meet the chief.

The guard cuffed Namjoon behind his back and led him through long, tight corridors. The witcher looked around to seek for his companion, but Jimin was not jailed in any of the cells that Namjoon passed through. He wondered where this annoying dandy might have ended up.  
At the end of corridor there was a heavy oak door with silver ornaments. The guard knocked on it three times. The door opened up with a loud creek and there stood old and plump man. He was rather short, as he only reached to Namjoon’s chest. The witcher looked down at him with a curious gaze. The short man gestured to come in and went back to his place behind a big mahogany desk filled with stashes of papers.

— Witcher, do you know why we are here today? — the man spoke nonchalantly as he went back to filling documents, not giving a single glare towards the witcher.

— I think it’s obvious. Now, quit the scolding and tell me why did you lead me to the cell instead of straight under a noose, like any other murderers.

— I see you are the bright one in your little duo. That little bard only cried and plead for light sentence and his lute to be stored in well ventilated room — the man chuckled and looked at the witcher with a faint grin on his face — Well, you might come in handy being alive. I have an offer you can’t possibly reject. It would be very stupid of you.

— And the offer is?

— Investigating forests of Novigrad. There’s a lot of people missing, being found completely dismantled, hanging from trees. Not a sight for a faint of heart. Yesterday our troop stumbled across a dead woman squished like harmonica. She was so massacred she didn’t even look human anymore. The local villagers aren’t keen on talking about it and act like it’s normal. Kind asking was of no use, neither few torn fingernails. We cannot tolerate this anymore. One of the survivors said it was the tree that crushed his leg and through pierced his horse with its roots. Can you believe that? A tree. I am no expert monster hunter like you, witcher, so I can’t give you any more clues than to travel a path to the east from Southern Gate.

— Well, what about my pay? — the witcher asked with resignation in his voice.

— Pay? Oh dear, this time your reward shall be your and the bard’s life. What do you think I’m going to pay you an amply sum of coin and excuse you?

Namjoon was not pleased when he heard this amazing offer. Work for free, and by the sound of it, not so easy. He knew there will be additional costs to this request and didn’t like it one bit.

— You can start tomorrow morning. Now get out of my sight. — the man advised and asked for the witcher to leave. The door slammed hard in front of Namjoon’s face. He was left alone in the corridor.

◆◆◆◆

— And then they took away my lute! My lute! Can you believe that, Namjoon? They could’ve scratched the surface. And I assure you, my friend, you won’t find this species of cherry tree wood to make me a new one — Jimin babbled his mind out as soon as they left the jail and hadn’t stopped since. Enraged as his most precious property got taken away from him during interrogation process — Oh look! They pulled at the strings too hard. Now I need to tune it... It was so perf-

— Alright, I get it! Now can you be quiet for five minutes? Your lute is fine and so if your very handsome face. Guess the ladies from all over the continent won’t be drowning in tears this time. — Namjoon cut out bard’s monologue and sighed in annoyance. Jimin only pouted and sunk his face deeper in a thick fur of his coat.

The witcher himself was in the process of mourning his last silver coins he had to spend at herbalist’s store to replenish his supplies, knowing well he won’t get that money back from this request.

The duo had been trotting along the eastern path for hours on horseback,trying not to lose the track in thick snow that covered it, looking for any trails the mysterious creature might have left. Namjoon may not be religious person, but he prayed in his mind that the creature is not some old Leshy claiming the forest as his, as they tend to be rather difficult to get rid of for good. His sharp senses couldn’t quite catch any trail of fresh evidence. They saw the place where the woman was found, but the fresh blanket of snow had already covered any footprints left by her or the creature.

— I’m starving. We didn’t even get to eat at the tavern yesterday and I’m not stoked for your special roots and tree bark soup. How can you even survive of off that? — Jimin murmured looking around for any sign of plant that he can throw in today’s meal. A little frozen bush with leftover red berries that glimmered in the sun caught his attention. He quickly jumped off his steed and rushed to gather them. As soon as he leaned to grab them Jimin noticed a clear trail that was ever so slightly less covered in snow. He followed it in hopes of finding more food. The trail was was becoming more green and bushy with each step. He finally found bushes so thick and green he couldn’t believe it. It certainly does not belong in winter landscape Jimin thought. He grabbed the branches and couldn’t believe his own eyes. Green heaven. A meadow with one enormous oak tree in the middle. It’s branches so thick and heavy looking, twisted in every direction. The place so much warmer than the cold and harsh winter forest. He could see flowers blooming in various colors. He picked some of them to inspect it. Jimin couldn’t believe that it isn’t illusion.

— Who dares to enter my sanctuary? — the low muffled voice called out the bard. Jimin only looked around, scared by the sudden noise, but didn’t know which direction to look at to meet the stranger.

— Are you deaf? Answer me!

— Who’s there? — the bard stuttered his sentence, clearly scared and only now realizing he’s probably too far away for Namjoon to hear him.

The roots shoot from the ground where Jimin stood, locking him in place. They grew up to his knees. The bard screamed and hit the roots with his hands to no avail. Strong branches expanded towards him and entwined around his neck like a pair of snakes.

— You’ll do just fine as a compost for me. — the voice giggled.

The branches kept clenching increasingly harder at Jimin’s neck. He tried to grab and pull at them, but they didn’t even budge from their place. The lack of oxygen gave its signs as the bard could feel himself getting lightheaded. Eyes filled with tears, his vision blurry. This is the end Jimin thought. He went limp waiting for his demise.

Unexpectedly there was a loud crack and sudden release at Jimin’s throat. He would’ve fell down if not for the roots locking his knees. The branches laid next to his feet. With his last crumbles of willpower the bard looked up to see Namjoon with his silver sword unsheathed, ready in his battle stance.

Namjoon followed Jimin as soon as he disappeared between the bushes. Smell of his usual myrrh oils so strong it wasn’t hard to track the bard down. His wolf medallion trembled with the first step taken at the meadow.

The witcher didn’t have to wait long for the next branch hits. He waltzed around them, breaking and nicking at them. The roots emerged once again and leaped at the witcher’s leg, missing and reatreating for the next strike, this time hitting from the back and effectively rooting the witcher. The sword knocked out of his hand by a branch.

— God, you’re a one lively tree — Namjoon grunted.

— I sense you’re not completely human. Perhaps townsfolk have finally hired someone of higher skills to slay me — the nicked branches delicately explored Namjoon’s face structure, went down to his neck, chest and found the wolf medallion. Soft leaves writhed around the harsh metal. — Can feel the magic flowing through it.

— You’re not a monster, you can touch the medallion without it burning you, so what are you — Namjoon grabbed the twisted leaves and shoved them back — or who?

The remaining roots and branches backed out completely, leaving half concious Jimin to fall down to the ground with a dull thud. He glanced at the witcher one last time before succumbing to sleep.

Namjoon walked closer to the tree, touched its bark. The medallion trembled even harder than before. If not a monster then perhaps a spirit.

— A human. My name is or maybe was Seokjin.

Murderous human enchanted in the old oak tree. Perhaps it’s even worse than Leshy. They are monsters that live to kill, but what kind of business would a normal human have to go on such a bloody rampage.

— From what I’ve heard you aren’t an angel. Enjoyed killing the humans? Why did you do this.

— Pesky, greedy little worms. I can hear feel their steps, hear their voices everyday as they pass through the forest. Nobles, peasants, merchants... You name it. None of them have any kind of respect for this place.I kill to protect myself from them.

— So it is only fair if I kill you now to protect the others — Namjoon replied to Seokjin, still fascinated at how can possibly a soul of a human be so powerful while being locked up in a tree. The whole place looked like it’s kept by the magic, but where could the source be?

— Aren’t you supposed to help me? I’m a human too, you know. Alas, my bones long buried in the ground, I still have my consciousness, my entire being. I have heard the stories of your kind — Seokjin’s amused chuckle vibrated across the tree, shaking its leaves. — I may be completely blind, but my senses of touch and hearing are extraordinary. And let me tell you, no human I’ve ever encountered sliced me with a silver sword. It feels different, more sharp, the sound of it falling out of your hand was different too. Your amulet isn’t made just for decoration. Am I not right, witcher?

Namjoon walked up to unconscious Jimin and inspected his injuries. He seemed to be fine, little bruised on the neck and should wake up sooner or later. He swept the bard’s hair from his eyes and laid him down next to the tree. Namjoon sat on the ground and leaned his back on the harsh tree bark and looked up at the tree crown.

—You’re right, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened.

◆◆◆◆

_It was late December evening. Sun long gone under horizon, the only source of light was from the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, swinging to and fro. Chilly wind blew through little nooks and creaks of carriage’s windows and all Seokjin could think of was how long would this boring ride will take to arrive at Novigrad . Why couldn’t he just use a portal to transport himself and this ragged brat? The runny nosed kid officially named “the next heir of Valencia” that constantly asked if “we’re there yet” or if “you know any cool magic tricks” was about to meet his not so soon to be wife. The kid was asleep, cradled in bundle of white fox furs pelts. Seokjin could only throw imaginary lightning from his eyes towards that little pest._

_The young sorcerer never would’ve thought that after years of sweat dripping from his ass, after all all the abuse and constant dread of not being enough he would end up as a babysitter for a ten year old in some good for nothing, shabby kingdom. And to add a salt to the injury his rival from Ban Ard academy would also attend the ceremony. Seokjin could already feel uncomfortable hug from Hoseok, the fake smile, phoney worries about him. All Hoseok had ever done was to trample him. How could he end up being Redania’s royal advisor and not him? Seokjin knew only one thing - that life isn’t fair, and his life will be a long and iniquitous one._

_Few hours had passed and the carriage was still deep in the wilderness of Redania’s forests. Seokjin could feel himself slip into unconsciousness with each passing minute as he hugged his fur pelt closer to his body. The only thing that effectively stopped him from falling in deep slumber was irregular road the carriage was driving on. The gentle ambient of horse huffs and hooves clapping enfolded Seokjin’s tired mind._

_This serene scenario was suddenly disturbed by a loud scream of a wagoner. Seokjin and the kid woke up in unison._

_— What’s going on? — the kid asked with first droplets of tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He hugged the pelts as a mean of comfort._

_— Shh, it’s ok._

_Seokjin slowly opened the little window to see blood splashed on a fresh blanket of snow. The sorcerer thought it may be robbers. He needed to get the kid out of here quick._

_The door opened wide. In front of them stood a man dressed in dark cape, his face covered with a black bird mask. The boy screamed and scooted to Seokjin to hide behind him. Seokjin covered the kid with his cape._

_— Aedd ar aenye! — Seokjin chanted the spell. His hand was instantly filled with blue flames. Seokjin launched flaming shards in the man’s face. It was enough to make him back out from the doorframe._

_Seokjin grabbed the kid by his waist, tossed him over his shoulder and made a run for it. The kid, now fully in panic, screamed for his mom and writhed like a snake on Seokjin’s shoulder. The sorcerer ran through thick bushes in hopes of losing the masked murderer. He stumbled into a meadow, streaching his free hand in an attempt to summon next spell._

_— Gaeth Gynv- — Seokjin felt a striking pain in his lower back. A dimmeritium w arrow pierced his hip, effectively stopping him from summoning a portal._

_The second arrow penetrated his left thigh, the third hit his shoulder. The sorcerer fell down on the ice covered ground with a thud. He could see the kid laying next to him. The kid quickly stood up and tried to hide behind a lonely oak tree that grew there. The masked man caught up with the screaming prince, grabbed him by the collar and slowly creeped the blade under his chin_

_Dizzy Seokjin could hear the agonizing screams of the young prince. With his last pieces of strength he tore off the arrows from his body and stood up on shaky legs._

_— Glaeddywan Vort! — Seokjin guided a strong gust of wind that knocked the blade out of the masked man’s hand._

_He looked at the sorcerer’s direction._

_— My arrows weren’t enough for you, royal dog? — the man let out of the kid and strides towards wounded Seokjin. His hand erected in the air. The sparkly light gathered in his hand — Aedd ar a’thaegane!_

_The lighting fired from the sky, piercing right through Seokjin’s chest. The sorcerer screamed in agony as he felt electric shocks throughout his whole body. He collapsed on his back. The masked man came up to him an put his leg over his stomach._

_— Now be a good doggy and don’t interrupt my fun — the man said, striking Seokjin’s face with a solid kick._

_Seokjin began to lose his consciousness, the horrible lullaby of harrowing kid screams and stabbing sounds filled his ears as he finally went limp and succumbed to nothingness._

_He woke up feeling gentle snowflakes covering his face. Was that a dream? Is he still on the road? He tried to get up but the agonizing pain wouldn’t let him. Now he remembered what happened. Seokjin opened his eyes and looked around, searching for anything that could help him get out of this hopeless situation. No herbs in sight, no people around. He’s doomed. He laid his head back on snow and began to wait for his demise. At least after death everything’s gonna be fine._

_As he prepared to greet death at his door, Seokjin felt a familiar tingle in his hand. He moved his fingers a little bit in search for another sensation. There it happened again and again. Magic source. This place must’ve been elven ruins or the sacred place. With a help of outside magic source he could possibly heal enough to stay alive. He needed to find a catalyst. His hand, even if it felt like carrying a one thousand iron bars, reached up in the sky, swirled in the wind and created little glowing particles that seemed to be attracted to the lonely oak tree in the middle of this meadow. Bingo! Seokjin gathered all his willpower and crawled towards the tree. He reached the snake like roots that were coming out of the ground. He touched them and began to chant_

_— N’te va ar aedd va fh’all! — the roots began to move towards Seokjin, entwining his body — Va’fhaar adann!_

_Everything went as planned. Seokjin’s body healing slowly from the magic. He could feel a bit of release from pain as the wounds began to heal quickly. He laid there, hugged by the roots, when suddenly they began to squeeze tighter that he sorcerer wanted them too. The wave of panic washed over Seokjin. He began to grip at them to stop. One of the roots came up to his chest and penetrated the wound on his chests. Seokjin screamed as he tried to yank it out of here. He felt it wriggling inside of him, deeper into the chest. The root gripped his heart and squeezed it. His body became paralyzed, the only feeling was root squeezing at the heart. His blood sipped in the roots. Seokjin’s body went through the last shocks and went completely still._

_„Where am I?”_

_Seokjin felt awfully heavy. His sight gone. Where is he? He tried to move his limbs. He couldn’t, he’s completely still. Where the old oak? The sorcerer couldn’t understand what just happened. He’s completely still and can’t see, but can feel the ground. He could feel water flowing through his body, gentle sway of wind. He tried to speak, but stopped after only one word. His voice deep, muffled and distorted. There was another feeling - holding onto something, gripping it tightly. Seokjin tried to focus his mind to put it down. He could hear wooden creaks and now he knew. He is the tree. Blood from his heart transferred his soul to the tree._

**Author's Note:**

> h-hewwo  
> So... Basically i wrote this on my knee in one day. This is the first ever fanfic I have ever posted. It's a big challange for me as I'm not completely fluent in English, but I hope some people may enjoy this little story :3


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